The Come and Get It Dress
by BatmansBabe
Summary: For the first time in what seemed like forever, I had a date. A full out, take me out to dinner, butter me up with wine, kiss me goodnight, wonder if I’ll invite him in, date.
1. Dress

For the first time in what seemed like forever, I had a date. A full out, take me out to dinner, butter me up with wine, kiss me goodnight, wonder if I'll invite him in, date.

I wasn't sure I could even remember my last first date. And I definitely couldn't remember feeling this anxious. I'd changed outfits three times. At first, it had been a showy camisole and jeans, with pointy, black FMP's over the pants to the knee. It had seemed too casual, so I'd thrown the camisole off, changed to a pair of open-toed heels, and stuffed myself into the little black dress, hoping it went with jeans. Then, as soon as I'd smoothed out the wrinkles and stared at the jeans in the mirror, I'd pulled them off in a rush and run into the bathroom to shave my legs. God, why hadn't I shaved my legs earlier? There was likely to be some suggestive groping, if not a horizontal tango between the sheets (also a possibility) and things like that should not involve hairy legs. And what if I did invite him in afterwards? I couldn't exactly excuse myself to the bathroom because I had hairy legs.

My hair was up in a slightly mussed bun (you just weren't Jersey if your hair wasn't mussed), my eyes dusted with a shade of deep red, with kohl framing my bottom lids, and just enough coats of mascara on my lashes. My lips I'd stained red, and the hoops in my ears were silver to match the necklace hanging between my breasts. My cleavage, what little I had, was maximized with the magic of Victoria's Secret, and as I stared at myself in the mirror, I played anxiously with my clutch, opening and closing it in a twitchy rhythm, occasionally taking something out or putting something in.

"Okay," I said to the empty room. "You are not freaking out here. You are thinking rationally. You're fine." If only I could get myself to really think like that, I'd be okay. I was going to make a fool of myself. I always made a fool of myself, of course…but now was different. I wanted this to go somewhere. I wanted a relationship.

I checked the clock. Five minutes to 8. I threw one last glance into the mirror, and, on impulse, took my cell out and threw it on my dresser. _No interruptions, _my mind was telling me_. You want this. You like this guy, and this date is important. _That done, I wobbled on jelly-legs into the kitchen, and stooped by Rex's cage, reaching into a nearby bag for a Cheez Doodle. I dropped it into his cage, and he scuttled backwards out of his can. He sniffed the Doodle, and then took a bite, his beady black eyes turned up to me.

"Okay, so I'm nervous. I don't remember ever actually dating a guy. I mean, what do I do? Usually I just meet guys, do the whole sexual tension thing, and sleep with them. Maybe afterwards we'll go on a few dates. But this is a date date. At least that's what he said."

Rex nibbled at the Doodle some more, eyes still on me. What was with that, anyway? Why was I always the one being stared at?

"I don't know date date protocol. Can you invite someone in on a first date? I mean, he's hot. Super hot. Rip his clothes off and hope he'll ravish you hot. I've already made assumptions about him, and I like him. Is it weird to invite him in? Or…what if the date's awesome but one of us sucks in bed?" Rex continued to stare at me. "Okay, so what if I suck in bed? Do you wait until you're already committed to have sex?" This, of course, meant buy a box of condoms sex, not one night, hot, sweaty, tomorrow-we're just-friends sex.

With one final glance at me, he stuffed the rest of the Cheez Doodle into his mouth and scuttled back into the can. And yet again. I'm always the last one left in a conversation.

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks."

The microwave clock said one minute till. Dusting the powdered cheese off my fingers onto a towel, I smoothed the dress down once more. I was suddenly very worried that the dress was too "come-and-get-it." God, he was going to think I wore it so that he would come and get it.

The thing was, I was pretty sure I wanted him to come and get it.

The doubts won over, and I moved forward, toward my room and a different dress. Or the jeans.

Then there was a knock at the door. No time for a less forward dress. I stared up at the ceiling, cursing God and all that was holy that this man had to be on time, then nervously reached for my clutch on the countertop. Rex stuck his head out of the can, and I sighed. "Wish me luck."

He blinked at me, twitched his nose twice, and backed into the can again.

I walked toward the door, brushing a curl from my face, and peeked through the peephole. No one was there.

"You have to open the door."

I sighed. "So I can't back out because you don't meet my standards?"

"You have standards I couldn't meet?"

"I might."

It struck me how stupid I was being. We were being.

"This is stupid. We're talking through the door."

He reads minds. I gave another sigh, and turned the door handle, swinging the door open.

He proffered a rose that matched my eye shadow, and smiled at me, his grin wide and brilliantly white. I was very conscious of the fact that my knees might give out at any moment. Three inch heels would have been much more appropriate than the four-and-a-half I was currently shaking in.

I started at his feet, taking in every detail. His shoes were black, looking like a mixture between comfort and style, totally understated. The rest of him wasn't. He wore black slacks that formed to his body at the hips. And then I was wondering if I'd get him out of the pants. The way he was looking at me made me feel like it was a very high possibility. Over the black slacks, he wore an almost maroon sweater that shaped to his torso in a way that mystified me more than usual. I couldn't exactly figure out why it mystified me, because all his shirts fit him like that. One sleeve was rolled up just enough to expose the expensive looking watch that clung to his wrist. His eyes were scanning my form as well, but he seemed fixated on something below my head. I smiled at the way his hair curled at his ears, looking newly cut.

His eyes caught mine, and he smiled teasingly at me. "Am I up to standards?"

I covertly checked to make sure there was no drool, and made a noise low in my throat that might have been a purr.

He chuckled, and I self-consciously smoothed the skirt against my thigh again. His eyes followed the movement, darkening before they reached mine again. "You look beautiful."

I searched for something to say. My brain catalogued conversation topics, but, as usual, it wasn't connected to my mouth. "We match."

He elegantly raised an eyebrow.

"Is that, like, a sign or something? An omen? Maybe we shouldn't go out tonight. I mean, we match. We're both black and red. That's not good. And…I'm kind of freaked out. I haven't been on a first date since college, and—."

"I haven't been on a first date in a while either," he said, still smiling at me. "We'll just have to wing it."

I nodded slightly, brushing hair back again. I slid out into the hallway, shutting the door. I giggled anxiously. "You still want to go out with me after that crazed rant?"

His lips turned up again, and he slid his hand into mine, mocha skin smooth against my own cream-colored hands. "C'mon Babe. We have a reservation."

Ranger tugged at my hand, his fingers dancing circles across the soft underside of my wrist. I pulled the key from the lock and slipped it into my clutch, my eyes moving down, my head tilting as he walked slightly in front of me, pulling me towards the elevator.

"I know what you're doing, Babe."

I jerked my head up, pulling up that false bravado that Ranger could always see right through. "Who said I didn't want you to know?"


	2. Date Date! Part I

Disclaimer: Yet again, I don't own it. Anything. Stephanie and Ranger are not mine. Trenton is not mine. The nice Mercedes? Not mine. What IS mine, however, is the plot. And…oh yeah. Miranda. **wink **

**AN To anyone who speaks Spanish, well, please correct anything I've got down there. I used Babel Fish, and most of the time, Babel Fish sucks. **

Ranger angled out of the Mercedes, moving around the hood to open my door, and he took my hand, guiding me out as I hurried to reassemble the dress, knowing that if it rode up, even a few inches, Ranger would get a view of things meant to be seen only in the bedroom. Which we might or might not end up in by the end of the night.

I took in my surroundings, my eyes taking in the unfamiliar buildings that looked a little too large, streets that looked a little too new, and a restaurant that looked _way_ too fancy.

"We aren't in Trenton."

"No."

"Are we still in Jersey?"

He turned, grinning at me. "Barely."

I stopped him halfway to the door, staring in at the elegant dress of the just as elegant people dining there.

"I can't go in there."

"Why not?"

"Ranger, look inside there."

He followed my gaze, staring at the men just short of wearing suits, and women looking like they belonged on a red carpet. Or a runway. "So?"

"No one in there is remotely Jersey. I'm as Jersey as it gets. I can not go in there like this."

"Like what?" He was staring at me like I was insane, his eyes scanning me from head to toe, trying to find the flaw I was so adamant about.

"Like…" I let go of his had, gesturing vaguely to myself. "Like I'm about to go _clubbing!_ I can't go in there in this dress!"

"What's wrong with the dress?"

"Ranger, come on! It's too short, there's too much cleavage, I'm wearing open-toed shoes, my hair is _mussed_ which is a total faux pas for a place like this. I don't fit in here."

He moved forward suddenly, startling me, and cupped my face in his hands. "Do you really care about what everyone else in there thinks? Do you really care?"

"Don't you?" I asked, trying to hide the emotion in my voice, wondering how we'd gotten here so suddenly. "Don't you care what they think about me?"

His eyes held mine. "No."

I bent my head, blinking away tears, wondering if our worlds had always been truly this different. I felt his lips on my forehead, and sighed, wiping at my cheeks.

I nodded slightly, and he took my hand again, moving forward.

I stopped again at the door, my heart beating a million miles a minute. Ranger frowned. "What are you so afraid of?"

The door was thick, wooden, carved intricately with panes of stained glass in both. The handles were carved just as intricately, and the shrubberies on either side were lit with white lights. The last restaurant I'd been in, the doors had been made of thin layers of glass, and one pane had been replaced with a sheet of plywood because someone had taken a baseball bat to it.

"What if I can't fit in?"

The question was a loaded one. We weren't just talking about the restaurant, now. This was Ranger's life, and I didn't know if it could be mine, too.

"You already do, Babe."

My stomach in knots, I chose to believe him, for the time being, and let him lead me through two set of the doors, into the restaurant.

The woman standing at the wide wooden desk smiled at Ranger, her eyes taking me in in detail. I tried to sink back, but Ranger propelled me forward.

She nodded at Ranger, grabbing only one menu as she moved around to our side of the desk. "Carlos."

"Miranda."

She smiled, giving me a look and then raising her eyebrows at Ranger in amusement. "This way."

I glanced uneasily around me as we were lead farther and farther back, trying to ignore the way people's eyes would follow me through the rooms, and the way the hairs on the back of my neck prickled to let me know they didn't stop when I'd walked past them.

She took us all the way to the back, stopping at on of the curtained off alcoves. She slid the menu onto the table and ushered us in, waiting until we were settled before speaking.

"Welcome to _El Jardín del Cielo_, What can I get you to drink?"

I turned, wide eyes, to Ranger. Ranger grinned. "Wine."

Miranda smiled. "And cheese, with that?"

"Don't joke."

"I know what you want." She turned her gaze to me. "Anything else?"

I choked on my words. "Uh…n-no. Wine is good."

I felt Ranger's chuckle. "Two waters."

Miranda nodded. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She winked at me, and then the curtains dropped.

I stared at Ranger. "I don't think I've ever eaten in one of these. Isn't this kind of…bad? You can't see anything outside this little...thing. You don't feel…like your back is to the door?"

"This place is—different."

"Do you come here a lot?"

He did the eyebrow thing again.

"It's just…you and Miranda seem…close."

He looked like he was trying not to smile. "My brother owns the restaurant. He's also the head chef."

"And Miranda…"

He no longer fought the grin. "You're cute when you're insecure."

"I am _not _jealous."

"I said insecure."

My cheeks tinged red.

"Miranda is my brothers wife."

"Oh."

He smiled, softly, reaching for my hand across the table. Slowly, he intertwined our fingers, the smile still playing at his face.

After a moment of silence, the question I'd been thinking about suddenly popped out, leaving me mortified. "So…are all the Manoso's as rich as you and your brother?"

I clapped a hand over my mouth, my face burning in embarrassment. "Oh my God. I didn't…I mean…I don't…"

I dared to look up at him.

He was laughing. He was _shaking_ in silent mirth, which bubbled out a moment later, filling my ears with deep melodic laughter.

I bowed my head again. "Don't laugh! It's not funny!"

He shook his head, sobering a bit. "It is, Babe."

"I'm such a dope."

He gave that small smile. "Hm," he intoned noncommittally.

I narrowed my eyes. "Was that an agreement?"

He didn't answer me, just continued to smile, like he knew something I didn't.

His hand found mine again. "Have I told you you're beautiful?"

He had me embarrassed again. I ducked my head, letting hair fall into my face. "Stop."

"Answer the question."

I gave a slight nod of my head, still not looking up. "At the door. You told me when you picked me up."

He crooked a finger under my chin, and pulled my head up. "I'm not talking about tonight."

The curtain swung open. "You are _such _a sweet talker."

It was Miranda, carrying the wine and glasses, a waiter behind her balancing a tray that held two waters. She set the glasses down, reaching for the water.

As she set it down on coasters that looked like they belonged in a museum, she turned her gaze to me. "But he's not lying. You _do _look beautiful."

Ranger groaned. "I should _not _have come here. Miranda, this is a _date_."

Miranda blinked. "Oh my God. I'm doing it again, aren't I? Butting in? I swear to god I've been working on it. Celia even took some guy she's been dating here again, and she didn't even rag on me afterwards."

"Work harder."

Miranda gave me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. I'll stop interrupting."

"No, it's okay. I swear."

"It is?" Ranger and Miranda both asked.

I gave Ranger a sideways glance. "I don't really know much about Ranger. It's nice to know he has a family."

"You didn't think he had a family?"

"No, I mean…I knew he had a family, but…it's nice to actually see and hear part of it."

Miranda shot a look at Ranger. "You ready to order?"

I hit the palm of my hand against my forehead. "I haven't even looked at the menu."

"Good."

Ranger shifter. "No. Miranda—."

But she'd already disappeared.

"Nice to know I have a family?" he asked exasperatedly.

I shrugged. "You never say anything about yourself. You know everything about me and I know less than nothing about you. The whole mystery thing was cool for a while, but now it just sucks."

"The mystery is the allure."

"And you've allured the hell out of me. But you've already got me. You don't need to allure me anymore. I want to know about Carlos."

His brow knitted momentarily. "Really?"

I smiled, squeezing his hand. "Really."


	3. Date Date! Part II

Disclaimer: Still. Don't. Own. It. Miranda, the Garden of Heaven, and the crab are mine. That's it.

AN: To all my American fellows, HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Or, as you call it anywhere else, Thursday.

"Oh my god. This is amazing. This soup has vegetables in it, and I _like _it."

Ranger smiled, spearing a tomato from his salad.

"I can't believe you got a salad, when you could be eating this…this _masterpiece_."

"I'll be sure to give the chef your compliments. What was it, exactly? 'It has vegetables in it, and Stephanie Plum still likes it'? What a rave review. He might have to quote you."

I nudged his knee under the table, eyeing his salad in distaste. He frowned, shook his head, and pushed it across the table, toward me. "Try it."

"That?"

"This."

"But it's…mostly green. You know green and I have never had the best relationship."

"Just try it."

"If I have to spit it out, I'm using your napkin."

"Babe."

"And these are cloth. I would feel like such a jerk if your sister had to clean green spit off her cloth napkins."

He stared at me, and, frowning at him, I stabbed the fork down and took a bite. The dressing was a bit like a mix between Italian and Caesar, and as I chewed, my opinion of salad was quickly shifting.

I pointed at the bowl. "That is _not _salad."

Ranger smiled. "You _liked _it."

"It isn't salad. It can't be."

"You won't admit it, but you like salad."

"I like _that_. Which is not salad. That is…magical."

We ate in silence, and just as I finished off the last bite of Rangers salad, the curtain opened again. A few curious people from tables nearby peeked in.

Miranda was carrying plates that looked too large to fit on the table. Deftly, she slipped one plate onto the table—Ranger's crab—and grabbed the empty bowl of soup, setting it in the salad bowl and picking it up as she set my steak down in front of me.

"Did you like everything?"

Ranger smiled.

"Did Ranger _really _order a salad?"

"As far as I know."

"It didn't taste like salad."

She stared at Ranger. "You let her eat your food?"

Ranger shrugged.

"It still didn't taste like a salad."

Miranda smiled. "It never does."

When she'd left again, I glanced up at Ranger. "What did she mean, 'You let her eat your food'?"

"I have a thing."

"_You_ have a thing?"

"I don't like people eating off my plate. Bad experience when I was a kid. A dog was involved."

"You have sharing OCD."

"You could say that."

I was silent, mulling it over as I chewed my steak. "You've never stopped me from eating your food. Or using your cars. Or your apartment, your shower, you shower _gel_, your bed…"

"You're different."

I speared another piece of meat. "Good different?"

"Good different," he said fondly, taking a bite of the rice he'd been served.

"_How_ good different?"

"Very good different."

"Good enough to try your crab, different?"

Wordlessly, he slid the plate across the table.

AN: I'm off to eat. And eat. And eat and eat and eat. No tofurkeys will be consumed in the process, so the napkins can thank me for that. Now, if only I lived in a 1,000 person town, had a new boyfriend who I could awkwardly kiss(and then not so awkwardly kiss) and/or a guy who was willing to skip Thanksgiving to play hymns on his guitar all night (and a little Black Sabbath) and crazy rich grandparents to dine with, a scary French man who I could practice French on (Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?)


	4. Date Date! Part III

AN: Okay, so while the rest of my fam-damnly was playing poker, I wrote some more. And let me tell you, I was very proud of myself. And, okay, so I had lots and lots of stuffing, and I ate more whilst everyone else was doing the cards thing (the fun part was, I found out my cousin is just as obsessed with LOST as I am. We'll be talking a lot more from now on.) and I just kept writing and writing. (I now have Rory Gilmore's voice in my head, saying, "And eat and write and eat and write and eat!") and I got about 3 more chapters written. This is all handwritten, of course, because I'm weird like that…and I was at my grandparents house…so I will probably procrastinate on typing it until I need to start on my AP homework, but it's written. LOL.

So once again I extend to you a nice "Happy Turkey Day!" and hope you've all eaten as much as me. Or, of course, to those of you who aren't crazy and American, "Happy Thursday!"

In other news, to those of you who are Dallas fans… THE BRONCOS FREAKING WON! Woot! Lol. Done with that.

**Fiona McKinnon:** You have no idea how much fun it was for me to put that in there. I had to make Ranger imperfect. I just had to.

**Bowlingforshrimp:** Please tell me your name is a clever play off Bowling for Soup. Because I freaking love them. And thank you very much. Glad you like.

**dork1147:** You like Gilmore Girls! Yay! Glad you liked. And, because today I'm in the mood for some fic pimping, if you like Lit or Javajunkie, check out my GG fics.

**eleanor:** I know. I was smiling as I wrote it. I loved it too. Hope you like this next bit even more.

Date Date! Part III

Sipping my wine, I smiled slightly at the story Ranger was telling. I'd never seen Ranger like this. Ranger had always spoken in monosyllables, he'd always been this mysterious man with the tight lips and soft voice, and I'd always thought that if someone could break his shell, she'd be set for life.

At the time, I hadn't expected it to be me. And I hadn't expected _this_ man to come out of the proverbial shell. He wasn't overly verbose, that was to be expected. But he wasn't succinct, either. He had a way of capturing the tiniest detail and making it into something big, and his eyes, usually so closed off, shone like a kid in a candy store. It wasn't exactly exuberance, but there was an excitement to his words, as if each and every one of them meant something to him.

God, I was lucky. We'd been talking for the better part of an hour, going over things that, in the long run, really didn't matter, and then things that I'd wondered about for so long.

At the moment, he was speaking of his family. There was something, some quality about his voice, which at once conveyed all the love in the world, and every protective bone in his body. I hung onto every word like a lifeline.

"Josephine just graduated law school. Harvard. Her boyfriend is ten years older than her, but she won't listen to a word of warning from anyone. She thinks he loves her."

"Maybe he does."

Ranger's head turned up to me. "Babe, if you knew the guy…"

"I'm not saying you're wrong," I told him, staring at our intertwined hands. We'd scooted closer and closer as the conversation wore on, and now we sat almost hip to hip, leaning back against soft cushions, basking in the soft candlelight. "It's just…I've had my fair share of men who are hard to figure out. It's never easy, and people don't accept it right away. But even if no one else knows the whole truth, you know it. And I think…I think maybe that's the best love of all."

Ranger's breath fanned at my ear, and his voice was soft, almost too quiet to hear. "Babe."

It sounded like a prayer. I turned my head, and our eyes caught.

And suddenly his tongue was in my mouth, and I was sliding down the cushions, my back resting on the seat with Ranger on top of me, his lips on mine, doing glorious things that made me want to continue the piety bit. Or at least sing the Hallelujah chorus.

His fingers were slowly parading their way up my thigh, and I was just a little too distracted to turn them in another direction. _This_, I was sure, was not something that should happen on a first date. I was just enjoying it too much to stop it.

And really, if I rationalized it, we had known each other for a long time. It wasn't as if we were strangers. His hands had already been a lot farther up my skirt than they were now.

And then, as fate would have it, the curtain swung open, and I small _'meep'_ sounded. The curtain closed again, and in a rush to sit up, I bumped my head against Ranger's. Hard. We scrambled up, rubbing our heads, staring bashfully at anything but each other.

"Can I come in now?"

We both made noises low in our throats, and the curtain opened again. "Ricardo Carlos Manoso, you're lucky I'm fighting with your mother right now. First date, and already you were…" she muttered something in Spanish that made Ranger shift uncomfortably. It was odd, really, to see her like that. She was short, maybe 5' 3", with pale skin and freckles dotting her face, blue green eyes contrasting with bright red hair. She'd obviously been part of the Manoso family for a long time, to make Ranger squirm like that.

"No bodily fluids will be found on this seat, Carlos, or it's your head I'll have."

"Your 3rd child was conceived in the seat next to this one," Ranger muttered.

"Be that as it may, _you _will not be conceiving any children tonight. No bodily fluids." She sighed. "I'm bringing desserts," she said in a slightly reprimanding tone. "And I expect you to behave."

She slipped away, and I turned my eyes up to his, looking, I was sure, like I'd been caught with my hand in mom's cookie jar. Not _my _cookie jar, because, of course, mine had a gun in it.

He smiled brilliantly. "Well. That was fun."

"Your sister-in-law just caught us making out."

"Yes."

"Are you really not weirded out by this?"

"Antoni is eleven years older than me, and Miranda has been a part of my family since I was born. She's seen a lot. She's the one who would always catch me sneaking out of the house. Because she was always sneaking in."

"But…"

He grinned, tracing the line of my jaw as I burned bright red. He left his hand at my temple, leaning over to kiss my forehead. "Worried about your honor?"

I gaped, knowing for certain that I looked like a fish out of water. "Uh…"

"I promise you, no one I know is worried about your honor."

"_Hey!_"

"Babe. You lived with Morelli on and off for three years. You're almost 33. No one's going to care that we made out in my brothers restaurant."

"So?" I asked, trying for indignant.

He smiled, leaning backwards, his hand taking hold of mine again. "Serious question?" he asked after a moment, the chocolatey goodness of his eyes holding my own cerulean.

"What?"

"Were you ever really that freaked out about the deal?"

I coughed. "Um…"

He continued to watch me, his eyes holding mine.

"I think maybe I was…psyching myself up a little. You can be a little scary sometimes."

He frowned. "I scare you?"

"I don't…" I bit my lip, searching for the correct words. "_You _don't scare me anymore. But I guess your life, and how you act around other people…you do scare some people."

"But I don't scare you?"

I smiled. "No way, Batman. You're a teddy bear."

He shot me a look.

"Well, you're _my _teddy bear, anyway."

His eyes darkened, and he moved, catlike, across the booth towards me. My throat dried out, my eyes widened, and I watched, paralyzed, my nerve endings on fire, as he came closer. One hand slid up my thigh, under the dress, to rest just below the line of my lace panties, and the other reached behind my head, pulling me to him. He didn't kiss me, instead leaning his forehead against mine, his eyes not breaking from my own. He sighed softly, and, eyes closed, breathed out my name. "Stephanie."

It sounded _so _much different when he said it.

He pulled back, his eyes blazing with something that was most definitely not lust, and removed the hand, smoothing my dress again, pulling back just in time for Miranda to reappear with two plates of what looked like heaven. It was chocolatey, and ice-creamy, and there were brownies and nuts and whipped cream.

I stared in awe. "Oh god. I love your brother."

"That might pose a problem. I don't share."

I smiled bashfully across the table at him, blinking more than was strictly necessary.

Miranda stood there for a moment, and then, with a smile, turned and left.

I was halfway through it before I looked up to find that Ranger had barely touched his.

I stopped. "You have to eat this. It would be a sin not to."

"Babe."

"I'm serious. Pollute the temple this one time. It'll be worth it."

"I can wait."

"It's going to melt."

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind for dessert."

The way he was looking at me told me just what he wanted for dessert. I gulped.

AN: I've actually decided that this is going to be a bit of a sequel to my first venture into Babe fics, **Not Wearing Pantyhose**, which, if you've read, can very easily be finished up as a prequel. So look out for that. And while you're looking out for it, review it. Please.


	5. Disagreement

AN: God, I'm on a spree! This is 5 chapters in a week! Of course, don't get your hopes up too high, I'm likely to stop writing for a while after about chapter 6 or 7…but eventually get back to it and hope you guys are still reading. Lol. I know for a fact that 6 won't be out until Monday, at the earliest, because, in my tradition of forgetfulness, (and the fact that my last class is no where near my locker, and my bus is over-capacity so I have to stake a claim on my seat early, because if I don't I'll end up squished between a dotty Freshman and that annoying girl who wants to talk to you even though you've told her she's annoying and that you hate her…) I left my favorite part of the chapter (and the freaking meat of the story!) in my English binder. Yeah. I know. You hate me. Well, as of July of next year, I won't have to worry about pimply freshman and that annoying girl anymore. So…talk to me in 7 months.

And, I apologize in advance for the way I've made Morelli. This is the first time I've made him a total prick (am I allowed to say that in a T story? Maybe I should change the rating.) But for the purposes of the story, I had to do it. I promise he'll get better. Eventually. The only thing I can say is, blame TG. I do actually have a reason for the sudden change from Not Wearing Pantyhose to this, and I hope NWP will be finished before I start to get into it here.

Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns everything but the plot.

Bine2889: Stop eating? Are you kidding me? I have metabolism up the yin-yang! And I can eat and write at the same time!

tippex-groupie: God, who doesn't love Ranger's little possessive streak? I've still got his little "For future reference, I wouldn't understand," bit on the mind. I loved it. Glad to know that it isn't just crazy American's reading my story. And yes, we do get pretty psycho for Turkey Day. I mean, closing down half of New York to parade clowns, Santa, and huge balloons that look like our favorite TV personalities; football games with the stadiums overflowing with fans covered in face paint and lots of times shirtless; families congregating in one house to swap insults, trade stories, and eat the bird that was almost the national bird? Even now it sounds crazy. But I got stuffing. Lots and lots of stuffing.

wanttowrite: Oh believe me, the desert will be good. Of course, because I'm still squicky about writing my own smut, it'll just be the suggestion of desert. But it'll be there. Hope TD was good for you.

eleanor: hehe. I love awkward kissing moments. And believe me, I'm raring up for an awesome finish to NWP.

Disagreement

Hands intertwined, Ranger led me through the restaurant. Even at the late hour, _El Jardín del Cielo _was swimming with people still waiting to be seated. It was a lot different experience this time through. I'd hugged Miranda goodbye, and she'd slipped the phone number into my clutch, grinning as she kissed Ranger on the cheek. The eyes had still followed me, but this time, I felt impervious to their glare. All that mattered was Ranger's hand in mine, and the look Antoni had given me when he finally came out of the kitchen, and the following look he'd given Ranger.

For the first time in a while, I was really and truly happy.

Then at the door we encountered the one thing that could possibly ruin my high. Joseph Morelli. He was with Terry, and as we moved toward the door, he shot Ranger a look of utter loathing.

Terry smiled plaintively at me, but it was entirely too cold for my taste. I turned my glance to Joe.

"Hi Joe."

"Stephanie."

Terry laid a hand on Joe's shoulder, speaking softly. "I'm going to go find out table."

Joe nodded, sill staring at Ranger. He shook his head in bemusement. "Just friends."

"Not anymore," Ranger said, and I felt his hand squeezing mine.

Joe turned his gaze to me. "Blown up the Turbo, yet?"

Beside me, I could feel Ranger tense; feel the coiled energy that was so catlike turn to anger.

"I haven't, actually," I said, trying to keep tempers cooled. "Sorry if you lost the pool."

I smiled a pseudo-beatific smile at him, and I watched his eyes fall to my legs. I smoothed the dress again, and could see the thought process he was going through. I certainly hadn't _dared_ to wear a dress this revealing when Joe had bothered to take me out.

He lowered his voice, bending closer to me. "You're really putting faith in this? In _him_?"

I stared at him as he shifted away again. My voice was hard, and I made sure Ranger heard every word.

"If it wasn't for Ranger, I wouldn't be where I am today."

"Some fuck up of a bounty hunter?"

Ranger interjected, "Hey!"

"Because that's where you are, Stephanie. You can't actually _do_ your job."

"Morelli." Ranger, again. His voice was warning.

Joe ignored it. "The last time you brought a skip in, he was naked and you were covered in rotten food."

I made a noise of dissatisfaction low in my throat, watching Ranger's hands out of the corner of my eye as they curled into fists.

Joe stared between us, then turned his eyes to me. "You're warming _his_ bed now. I get that. But when he realizes he doesn't want you anymore, don't come running back to me. _I_ don't take sloppy seconds."

Ranger's fist connected with Joe's jaw before I'd fully processed the words, and Morelli's head swung sideways.

With his head still turned sideways, he spat out blood, massaging his jaw. I was still staring in shock at him, not quite believing he'd actually spoken the words.

But the insecurities were creeping in, already. Was I just a nice lay for Ranger? I hadn't thought so. He'd been sincere in the idea that we were going to date. He'd made it seem like he wanted more than a few stolen kisses from me. Now I wasn't so sure. I turned my head, staring at Ranger in hopes I would get confirmation that Morelli was wrong. All it took was a look. He shot the words he couldn't speak to me, eyes telling me that in no way was Morelli even remotely correct in his assumptions, and then turned his gaze back to Morelli.

Morelli set his eyes on mine, the glare he had giving me chills. "Keep your lapdog away from me, you fucking whore, or I'll arrest him."

He made to move past me, but Ranger caught the collar of his shirt and dragged him backward, in a quick motion turning him and pushing him against a nearby wall. He lifted Morelli easily off the ground, and his voice was soft and threatening. 'I ever hear you talk like that to Stephanie again, you'll _wish_ you'd arrested me. I've got the dirt on you, you slimy rat. I could ruin your life in an hour. I haven't said anything before for Stephanie's sake. But you're out of her life. All I'd have to do is walk into that police station and tell them that you let Abbruzzi run free just long enough for someone to shoot him and make it look like a suicide. That's your badge. If I added Sanchez to it, you'd be looking at jail time. And if you make one more naked skip crack, I might send in the memo's to Vito." Joe's eyes widened. "Yeah. You forget, I've got people everywhere. Security isn't just for the drug dealers and gun runners. Working with a mob boss? That's time and a half."

Joe made a choking noise, coughing, and Ranger dropped the hold on his collar, letting Morelli crumple in a heap at his feet.

Joe slithered away, standing up and rubbing his throat. You're honestly telling me you have faith in Stephanie's skills? She can't catch a guy without ten of your men."

"She caught you."

"Because _I _went to her."

Ranger's grin widened. "How do you know that wasn't the plan?"

He. Because I would be that smart. I was getting an almost sick joy in watching ranger tear into Joe.

I'd missed something. It was obvious, because I caught a whisper of a last word and ten Joe's fist was careening toward Ranger's face. It connected, Ranger pounced back, towards Joe, and they rolled out the open doors, continuing to swing at each other. I moved outside the doors, yelling at them both. In the chaos, Terry and Miranda appeared, followed closely by Antoni. Women inside were plastering themselves to the windows, squealing and shrieking. Men were watching silently, doing the macho thing, cringing at each hit but otherwise uncaring. Then it started to rain.

Miranda was muttering in Spanish again.

Terry was yelling, trying to keep under the overhang to keep dry.

And I was mad. I was standing in the middle of the rain, letting it wash over me, debating my options.

Marching forward, I kicked my way between the two, pushing them away from each other.

Terry came running, her heels clicking against the pavement. She gave me a hard look, her hand resting at the small of Joe's back, staring at me like somehow, this was all my fault. Joe made a face, spitting to the side again, then, with one last glance in Ranger's direction, turned around and made his way through the crowd with Terry.

"Nothing to see here, people! Just go back inside!" Miranda yelled, moving through the throng with a death look on her face. She surveyed the damage, and with her hand at Ranger's elbow, steered him towards the restaurant, moving behind the counter, leading us through a door. Once in the room, a small storage space complete with a sink and supplies, she bit out at him. "What's wrong with you? You haven't been in a fight since you were sixteen, and now, all of the sudden, you're having it out in a parking lot with some mob girls _cop _boyfriend?"

Ranger flexed his fingers, rubbing his jaw. "I've been meaning to hit him for a long time. I hate that guy."

Miranda threw a rag at him, and I reached for it, soaking it with warm water.

"He's a _cop_, Ricky. He could have you thrown in jail."

"He won't, though."

Miranda threw her hands up.

"Fine! Okay. But didn't I say _no_ body fluids?"

Ranger put his palm to his cheek, staring guiltily at the floor.

"You're just lucky you didn't get any blood on the floor, you jerk." She started to walk away. "Punching a guy on a date! **_Men!_**" She disappeared out the door, then, a moment later, poked her head around again. "Stephanie, it was nice to meet you. I hope I'll see you again."

I smiled, dabbing at Ranger's lip with the rag. "A little blood couldn't scare me away."

With a nod, Miranda disappeared.

I continued to clean Ranger's face, sighing once in a while. His eyes followed my every movement, but he seemed afraid to speak.

I stopped, opened my mouth to speak, and then closed it, going back to his face..

His hands curled at my waist, pulling me closer. "Sorry," he said, turning his eyes up to mine.

I smiled, cupping his cheek. "Thank you for defending me, at least." I slid the cloth across his cheek again, then dropped it into the sink, rinsing it. "How long _have_ you wanted to hit him?"

Ranger grinned. "Even before I met you, Babe."

"Do you remember meeting me?"

The smile widened. "You were in that piece of shit Nova, and I remember thinking you didn't stand a chance."

"But you decided to help me anyway?"

"Mm." The grin turned to something that was not quite a smirk. "You were determined. I like determination. And I wanted to be Henry Higgins."

"You've never been Professor Higgins before?" Jeanne Ellen came to mind.

He pulled me closer, breathing into my hair. "You're my only Eliza."

"Well, as long as that's cleared up."

"Afraid you weren't the only one?"

"Hm."

"Jeanne Ellen had her skills long time before she met me."

"Jeanne Ellen sucks."

Ranger chuckled. "Jealous, Babe?"

"_No._" I told him, indignantly.

"Jeanne Ellen's got nothing on you, Babe."

"She has something."

"And what's that?"

"She had you first."

Ranger smiled a brilliant smile, and lead me towards the entrance, his hand at the small of my back. "She never _had_ me."

We stood under the umbrella outside, watching the rain patter onto the sidewalk. Ranger looked to me. "You want to run for it?"

"I'm in heels!"

"You want to run for it?" He had an almost juvenile glint in his eyes.

I giggled, nodding slightly, and he took my hand and took off at a run for the car. I shrieked and laughed the entire way there, and he opened the door for me and ushered me in. When I was situated, dripping wet and freezing, he bent down so that he was level with my eyes, and brushed back soaked hair, his eyes warm and caring. Then he shut the door, moving off to the drivers door, and slid in, a smile on his face.

AN: Because I'm cool like that, I'm giving you a sneak peek at chapter 6, because this line is awesome, and it's totally Stephanie Plum. And, I kind of ripped it from JE herself.

"_What's going on out here?" Someone asked, farther down the hall._

"_Sex in the hallways," answered Mrs. Karwatt, and the door slammed shut behind her. _

Also, to anyone who's interested, I am hereby requesting a beta. To give me suggestions, to tell me it's crap, and to pick up those stupid mistakes I never check before I update. I spelled "also" wrong in chapter two. As a bonus, you also get to read my chapters before everyone else. And you can tell me it's crap without flaming me. Lol.


	6. Decadent Dreams

AN: As I knew it would be, it's been pointed out that no one could really see Joe as that much of an ass to Stephanie. Yeah, sure, he'd be a little sore about it, but he'd take it out on Ranger, not Stephanie. Well, I've got a totally legit reason. It's just going to take a loooong time for Stephanie to figure it out. And since this is in first person…well, that means you're not gonna figure it out until she does. Bwa ha ha.

Even though, personally, I can't stand Joe, I know some of you still like him. And, lets face it, Steph's always going to have a soft spot where Joe's concerned. So he will get better. Eventually, we'll figure out why he's all of the sudden so high strung. I promise.

But for now, we're just focusing on Ranger and Steph. Now, I'd like to tell you that this isn't going to be Janet Evanovich, happy go lucky Babe stuff. There's going to be issues in the story. Quite a lot, actually. But I won't tell you it all now. Just wait. It's the next chapter.

And I have to say, I am so flattered by the reviews. I honestly can't believe I've gotten this much feedback, because, like I said, this story came to me halfway through the hair-rinsing bit. I seriously developed the entire plot in the shower. And then I had a dream about it that night.

**PlumCrazyRangerBabe- Wow. You're review stuck out. It sounds like you hadn't been having the greatest day. It's awesome to think that my little ficlet made it even a tiny bit better! I hope you like this little Babe bit. I have to say, I'm particularly proud of it. And there isn't even any smut! **

Decadent Dreams 

We made it to the lobby and into the elevator, soaking wet. Mrs. Bestler gave us looks as we settled in that I pretended to ignore. Ranger held me loosely in the circle of his arms, keeping me warm while I shivered with the sudden cold that washed over me once out of the rain, the shift of his weight and location of his hands warming things that hadn't been_ touched_ by the rain. "Second floor," I told Mrs. Bestler, and she nodded.

"Second floor, designer purses and better dresses."

My head rested on Rangers shoulder, and his hands alternating between making small circles at my back and rubbing my shoulders.

The elevator door opened, and we stepped out, waiting a moment for the doors to close. Ranger gazed at me, then bent to kiss my forehead. "I should go."

"Hm." I snaked an arm around his waist, tipping my head up. "Don't I at least get an actual goodnight kiss?"

He slid an arm across my back, the heat from his hand leaving a trail of warmth along the dampness of the dress, and his head moved forward. He kissed me lightly on the lips, and my eyes drooped closed. I managed to wrap an arm around his neck, and tugged him closer, pulling him back into the kiss. He gave a groan of protest when my tongue moved across his lips, but a moment later gave in. I stumbled backward, moving along the hallways with our mouths still attached and tongues in battle, reaching out blindly to check on doors, counting them off until we finally reached mine. We broke apart, breathing heard, when we got to it. His eyes held mine, dark with desire, and his lips looked slightly swollen. Inside, I gave myself a huge pat on the back.

I leaned against my door, pulling him with me, and our lips met again. For a while, we stood there, with our tongues battling, my hand fisted in his shirt, his in the ruined bun that was my hair. He broke it, bending to drop a trail of kisses down my neck, and I seem to remember dropping my clutch to fist my other hand in his hair. I fell back against the door after arching against him, creating a loud thud that was, for me, muffled by Ranger's sigh. Then a few doors opened along the hallway, and voices flew to each other across the way as Ranger bent a little more to flick his tongue out against my very sensitive collarbone.

"What's going on?" someone asked.

"Sex in the hallways," Mrs. Karwatt responded before slamming her door closed again.

Ranger groaned, burying his head in my shoulder, his lips against the base of my neck.

"So…" I started, when my breathing had evened. "Do you want to come in?"

He moaned this time, breathing against my ear. "Yes," he said. Then he pulled away. "But I can't."

I think I may have stuck out a pouty lip, because his eyes gazed there for a particularly long time. "Why not?" I asked stubbornly. Yep. I'd definitely worn the dress on purpose. I _definitely_ wanted him to come and get it.

"Because if I do, it will feel like I took you out for sex."

"Didn't you?"

He sighed, backing away as if to keep from touching me.

"I took you out so that I could take you out again. And again, and again, which would eventually _lead_ to that point, but…that wasn't the point of the date."

"So…"

"So I'm taking things slow."

"Slow."

He nodded, running a hand through his hair.

I mirrored the movement. "Okay. Slow is good."

I bent to grab my clutch from the floor and took out my key, playing with it for a moment. He reached for me, cupping my face in his hands, and dropped a chaste kiss on my forehead, and another, lingering one on my lips, as if he was leaving me with a promise of something. Then he turned and walked toward the elevator. Very slowly.

I fumbled with my keys, managed to unlock the door, then twisted the knob, turning to look at Ranger. The elevator light blinked, doors opened, and I heard Mrs. Bestler speaking.

"Ranger, are you sure you…?"

He moved back toward me, in a moment reintroducing his mouth to my neck, and I gave a noise of encouragement as he reached behind me and swung the door open.

We stumbled into the entry, hands too busy roaming to use them for anything else, and Ranger shut the door with his foot, kicking off his shoes as I flung his jacket to the floor. His lips caught mine and I groaned, breaking the contact to point to the door. "The lock. We should get the lock."

He stumbled slightly to the door, engaged the chain and the two locks, then leaned his head against the door. "This is not slow," he said.

I moved forward, copying his movements from earlier that night, slipping my hand into his and tugging him forward. "Not slow is good too."

And then he kissed me.

By the time we'd made it to the section of wall that was missing, connecting the living room to the kitchen across the hallway, my dress was strewn across a lamp, and I was clad in a bra and the lace underwear, and I was bending to unbuckle the shoe I had left on with one hand while my other reached to pull my hair free.

Ranger moved forward, taking charge of the hair while I successfully pulled the shoe off.

Ranger's shirt lay in a puddle near the shoes, the his watch and keys lay cozily next to mine on the little table I'd put in a few months ago, after Morelli and I had called it quits. (For some reason, the table felt like a step in the right direction) It was the first time all night I'd taken notice of the fact that he wore no pager, no cell. No gun. Which kind of scared me. He obviously meant serious business. The implication was that he wasnted no interruptions.

Scary thought.

He pulled me up, hands moving to my waist. His lips whispered across my back, and I leaned back into the touch. The pace had slowed suddenly, something I wasn't really accustomed to. With Morelli there had been a lot of sex, but it was always energized, exciting. It wasn't _fast_ per say, but there had never been any undertones, like the ones I was feeling now. Ranger had this intoxicating slowness about him. It didn't feel like foreplay, but for some reason it was enough to make my knees shake and the shivers from earlier seem like nothing. The way he was touching me seemed sensual, rather than sexual, two things I'd never thought could be different.

I turned in his arms, hoping to speed things up a bit, just enough to stop the sudden, aching need I felt to have him near me. Dark eyes caught mine a mere second before he dipped his head again, kissing me full on the lips, and his hand moved to the clasp of my bra, backing us toward my bedroom as he flung the bra away.

I woke from slumber feeling slightly sore, but utterly joyful. It was dark out, and what little traffic there had been outside was down to a crawl. Obviously it was late. I couldn't remember a time when I'd stayed awake long enough on a Friday night to see that traffic had slowed.

I turned to look at the clock on my bedside table, careful not to disturb Ranger from his slumber.

2:30.

I stretched a bit, then moved back into Ranger's embrace. His eyes blinked open, and he stared groggily at me.

"Babe?"

"Go back to sleep," I whispered back.

He made a muffled grunt, blinking away sleep, and sat. I pulled the covers back up, hiding my chest from view. Ranger smiled, kicking his legs off the bed, reaching for his pants.

"Where are you going?" I asked, slightly distraught.

He leaned back, smoothing hair from my face. "I'll be right back."

"Hm."

He stood, buttoning the pants. "Just going to the car."

"For what?"

"Clothes."

He left me to contemplate this, disappearing from my bedroom. I lay still, listening for the opening and closing of the door, and then sighed, a smile inching it's way onto my face. I took a moment to take stock of everything, and after a moment's thought realized my cell phone was almost dead. I sat, stretching languidly, letting the sheet drop now that I was alone, then slinked over to my dresser, picking up the phone. I moved back to the bed, sliding under the covers, and turned to set the phone on the charger. After making sure it was in place, I let my head fall to the pillow, and tried to fall asleep again, knowing it wasn't likely to happen. I listened intently to the noises of my apartment at night.

Far off, I could hear the faint noise of Rex on his wheel, his claws clicking on the metal with each rotation. There was a TV on a few apartments down, the drone of it slightly electric. It sounded like it was muted. The rain continued outside, the soft patter lulling me into peace.

I almost missed the sound of the door opening again, so immersed in this world I was. But I heard it, and my breath left me in a puff of air, wonderingly. I hadn't expected to feel this happy just hearing him open my door. The locks clicked into place, and I waited with bated breath for his shadow to appear in the door of my bedroom. I smiled when he slipped in, his hair wet again. He slid a bag along the floorboards, then moved toward the bed again. I sat up, and we stared at each other for a moment, and then I crawled forward a bit, slipping my arms around him, pulling the shirt off of him with some difficulty, then kissing his shoulder, brushing hair back from his face and neck to continue my assault. My hands moved toward the button of his pants, and he pushed me back against the pillows, his eyes dark and caring, desire etched into the dilated pupils. I closed my eyes, and he dropped a kiss onto each one of the closed lids. I reached for his waist again, and his tongue darted into my mouth.

Together, we managed to get the pants off, and I flung them off in another direction, reaching for him, trying to guide him where I wanted him most. He shook his head, his fingers dancing across my stomach, moving lower, doing things that made me totally forget about what I wanted.

I woke up to the ring of my cell phone. My head was planted neatly into my pillow, and Ranger's arm was slung around me, his elbow at the small of my back, holding me down. He groaned when I moved, pulling me closer and burying his head in my hair as I reached blindly toward the phone on my nightstand. Hooking the phone up to the charger had been a bad idea.

Ranger groaned. "Just leave it," he mumbled, his voice groggy.

"I can't. What if it's an emergency? What if Albert got into a car accident?"

"Everyone dies eventually."

Finally, I grabbed the phone, flipping it open with vehemence, turning slightly away from Ranger. Through a voice still leaden with sleep, I managed half a greeting. "illo?"

"Stephanie?"

The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and I wracked my brain, trying to connect a name to it. "Oh my god. Tank?"

Ranger's arm moved up my waist to smack at the phone. "Bastard," he muttered into the pillow, still swatting at my ear.

"Yeah. Listen, is Ranger there? Because he didn't bring _any _means of communication with him, and the Mercedes GPS is turned off, and—."

"God, Tank, what time is it?"

"Four forty-five."

"Four what?"

"Four fort—."

"I'm hanging up on you."

"Ranger has a meeting at noon."

"Oh no, the house is going through a tunnel, you're breaking up…the rain is melting my phone, I—."

I closed the phone and slammed it onto my nightstand, scooting into the warmth of Ranger's arms again.

"I hate Tank," I mumbled into Ranger's chest, the words muffled as my lips met with his skin. "And you have a meeting at noon."

"He called to tell you that?"

"He called because you bit through his doggie leash and ran away. I'm never answering that phone at night again. Albert can die without me, for all I care."

Ranger chuckled, pulling me flush against him. "Go to sleep."

"Like it's that easy."

He sighed softly, his fingers dancing across my neck, up into my hairline, his other hand rubbing circles at my back as he spoke in soft Spanish. My eyes grew heavy, and I feel asleep thinking that this was the most comfortable I'd been since I was a kid.

AN: Half of this was written while I waited for the teacher I TA for to bring back Taco Bell. I think maybe I should have people promise me food all the time. Because this was some awesome writing right here.

I'd also like to credit the writers of Gilmore Girls for the "house is going through a tunnel" line. That was all GG. And, okay, Lauren Graham, who executed it perfectly. And in her own sparkly "Come and Get It" dress, no less!

Eventually, I'll re-upload this when it's been properly beta'd, (most likely when I type up seven) but I really wanted to get this out and see people's reactions. And to keep up the tradition (because you guys are all awesome at leaving reviews…of course, 38 reviews out of 607 hits isn't exactly stellar, but…to those of you who did, this is a little extra. And for those of you who didn't, well, this is incentive. The more reviews, the fastest I work, man. I'm a review whore.)

Upon reaching the door, we were met by Big Dog and Carl. Big Dog grinned at me as he bit into a powdered sugar donut, using the hand holding coffee to wave at me. Carl nodded to Ranger, staring at our intertwined hands.

_He smiled amusedly at me. "Hear Morelli got his ass kicked outside Antoni Manoso's restaurant last night." He cut his eyes to Ranger. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"_

_Ranger gave him a cool look, then broke into a grin. "You got a warrant to ask me that?"_

_Big Dog bit back laughter, swallowing. "Hey man, I won five hundred dollars off that scuffle. I just want to thank the guy that gave him matching shiners." _


	7. Dunkin' Donuts and Discrimination

Disclaimer: Any characters or places you recognize belong to Janet Evanovich and her family, who publishes the books. I suppose they also belong to Tristar, but they're still in the process of writing a script for "One" which may never be finished, and if and when it is…well, I know for sure they'll never find the perfect Ranger. Unless they somehow combine the DNA of the Rock, Vin Deisel, and Antonio Banderas…it ain't gonna happen.

AN: Wow. I got on in the morning before school, and I had like 15 emails telling me people had reviewed. I'm so glad you liked it.

In answer to dibbs question…well, read this and find out. There is going to be a bit of a plot that has to do with Ranger and Stephanie finally being together, and the problems that will arise with that. And also, in future plot, you'll be seeing the bit about "Sanchez" as mentioned by Ranger. I'm sure you can all make your guesses, but I swear, I'm trying not to do a total cop-out (excuse the pun) and make Joe do something that puts Steph in harms way. Look for that in 8.

With no further ado:

Dunkin' Donuts and Discrimination 

There was a weight on my chest that was oddly comforting, and I wondered for a moment if Rex had eaten a mysteriously mutation coded grape to make him large and strong enough to get out of his cage, amble through my apartment and fall asleep on my chest.

I peeked out of one eye and found that the weight was much more pleasing than a furry, mutation giant hamster. Ranger's head had managed to nestle just below my breastbone, placing a light pressure on my ribcage. For a moment I thought he was asleep, but as I lay there, I felt his fingers making designs against my stomach. The motions were made in a soft lull, as if he was only half awake.

He stopped for a moment, then let his hands travel up the side of my waist toward my breasts. "Morning, Babe."

He pulled his head up, leaning his chin against my sternum, staring at me.

"How'd you know I was awake?"

"Your breathing changed."

"Hm."

He sighed. "We have to get up."

I shook my head, turning it to the side, burying my face in the pillow. "Too early."

"It's nine."

"Too early."

He moved off of me, rolling out of the bed. "Get up "

"Mm. Need sleep."

He dropped butterfly kissed across my shoulders. "I'm taking a shower."

"I'm sleeping."

"I'll be all alone in the shower. All alone with the shower head and my shower gel."

I reached for his hand blindly as he moved away, sitting up. "I'm up! I'm up I'm up."

He sauntered towards my bathroom, and for a while I just sat on the bed watching him. Then I rolled myself into a sheet, and moved off the bed.

Ranger poked his head around the doorway, shaking his head. "Babe."

"I can't preserve some modesty?"

"I've seen _every _part of your body. My hands and lips have been everywhere. You don't need modesty."

"It's light out now!"

He shook his head. "You have to let the modesty thing go."

"Well, you can say that! You're perfect!"

His eyes darkened. "So are you."

Feeling self-conscious, I let the sheet drop, and moved swiftly toward the shower, hoping he wouldn't see too much. He caught me by the waist, picking me up and cradling me to his chest, his eyes roving my form as he moved toward the bathroom.

He set me down in the shower, reaching behind me to start the water, and his hand reached for the loofah. He turned to look back at me, looking feral. I shivered, and he moved towards me, his eyes holding the promise of warming me right up.

We dressed with multiple, very pleasing distractions, but eventually made it out the door. When I had suggested I go get doughnuts before work, he'd given me a raised brow and nodded to the lot.

I smacked my palm against my head. "Right. Explosion."

"It worries me that this is normal for you."

I shrugged my shoulders in a "what can you do" gesture. "I still want doughnuts."

He sighed. "We'll get doughnuts by the office."

My eyes lit. "You're going to buy me doughnuts?"

"There will be _no _sprinkles."

I smiled, a skip to my step as he ushered me into his Mercedes. "I can't believe you're buying me doughnuts."

He angled into the drivers seat, barely glancing at me as he pulled out of the lot. "I must like you."

He took my hand before we got to the door of Dunkin' Donuts, and I felt the giddiness straight down to my toes. I grinned up at him, watching his face slide into a more neutral mask than I'd seen from him since he'd picked me up the night before. Upon reaching the door, it opened, and we were met by Big Dog and Carl Constanza. Big Dog grinned at us as he bit into a powered sugar doughnut, using the hand holding coffee to wave to me. Carl nodded to Ranger.

He smiled amusedly at me. "Hear Morelli got his ass kicked outside Antoni Manoso's restaurant last night." He cut his eyes to Ranger. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Ranger gave him a cool look, then broke into a grin. "You got a warrant to go with that question?"

Big Dog bit back laughter, swallowing. "Hey man, I won five hundred dollars off that scuffle. I just want to thank the guy that gave him matching shiners."

Ranger raised an eyebrow. "I'll make sure Antoni gives him the message."

When Carl and Big Dog sobered enough to speak, they both gave him a serious look. "There weren't witnesses, were there?"

"He won't press charges."

It was Carl's turn to raise an eyebrow. Ranger shrugged. "He's got plenty of incentive not to."

"Sanchez, you mean?"

"What about Sanchez?"

Carl nodded. "Later, Steph."

"Bye, Carl."

Carl moved away, and Big Dog touched my arm as he followed. "he ever calls you a whore again, he'll be lucky if he can walk. And we all think you've got balls to bring in a naked guy."

I smiled as he moved away, and Ranger opened the door for me, still holding my hand as we got in line.

The woman in front of us gave me a shrewd look, hiking her bag farther onto her shoulder before she faced away from us.

"Hi, Mrs. Alpome."

She turned, staring at me, completely ignoring Ranger. "Oh, hello Stephanie."

"How's your husband?"

"Dying," she answered.

I couldn't think of anything to say. "Oh."

She moved up in the line a bit, and I followed, making sure Ranger's hand was secure in mine.

"Well, I'll tell Grandma Mazur I saw you."

She nodded, her voice reproving as she spoke to me. "Oh. I'll be telling you grandmother I saw you, too."

Then she was being helped, and I was left in shock, not for a moment believing her. She'd totally ignored Ranger's presence, and spoken to me as if I'd had a child out of wedlock. I stared bemusedly up at Ranger, but he was determinedly ignoring my gaze. Hmm. A trend.

"Ranger?"

Slowly, he let his gaze meet mine. He squeezed my hand. "Yeah, Babe."

I sighed in relief, and the girl at the counter looked up at us. "What can I get you?"

I looked up at Ranger, waiting for him to order. He merely nodded his head fractionally toward the counter.

"Um…a large coffee."

"Two of those," Ranger said from behind me.

"Will that be all?"

"No," I said. "A chocolate doughnut and…"

"Just get a dozen. Connie and Lula will massacre you if you don't get them doughnuts."

"Fine, but I'm getting you a glazed."

"I won't eat it."

'Yes you will."

Another girl handed us coffee's, and Ranger took them both. "I'm going to get cream."

"You don't know how I take my coffee."

"Five sugars, one Splenda, three creams and a Half-and-Half."

I blinked. "Oh."

"Get your doughnuts."

I grinned at him as he moved toward the stand that held concessions.

He pointed to me. "_No_ sprinkles."

I turned back to the counter. "I guess…seven glazed and seven chocolate."

She nodded, pulling out a box and picking out doughnuts. "That your boyfriend?"

I glanced at him, his back to me as he poured cream into one of the cups.

I smiled. "Kind of."

She shifted, going for the glazed now. "Isn't it kind of…weird?"

I rolled my eyes. "Weird?"

"Well, I mean he's…"

"He's what?"

"Well, he's Mexican. And you're…white."

My patience, which had been running thin, ran out totally.

"Okay, number one, he's second generation Cuban-American. _Not_ Mexican. He's not from Mexico. His _parents_ aren't from Mexico. Mexico is not involved. And I'm Italian and Hungarian. My great-grandmother was from Italy. And two—no, it's not weird."

She gave me a hands up gesture. "Jeez. Sorry."

"Yeah." I frowned at her. "Right."

Ranger slid in next to me at the register, handing me my coffee and pulling out his wallet. I dug through the box for my doughnut, biting into it with a moan, and Ranger shook his head. The girl I'd reprimanded was already down at the other end of the counter, helping someone else, and an older woman was at the register. She eyed Ranger while he was looking down at the wallet, taking his credit card and swiping it as she winked at me.

I grinned, and Ranger rolled hi eyes, grabbing his card and sliding it into a pocket of his wallet.

I reached for the box, and he slid an arm behind my back. As we moved off, the box in my hands, I felt the eyes on my back again.

We broke through the door and I pulled out a glazed doughnut, proffering it to Ranger.

"I am not eating that."

"Yes, you are."

"No."

"Yes!"

"_No._"

"Okay, I just defended you to some girl I don't even know to get this doughnut. Eat it."

He turned his gaze to me, slowing his walk as we headed back across the street to the bonds office. "Defended me?"

"God," I started, pushing the doughnut into his hand. "How do you _deal _with people like that? She asked me if it was weird that you were _Mexican_ and I was white!"

He looked down at me. "What did you say?"

"Well," I started, my voice rising in indignation. "First I told her you were Cuban American, not Mexican."

"And second?"

"I told her I was Italian and Hungarian, not white."

"And what did you do next?"

"Hey, make light all you want, buddy. Butt his is serious business. She was a total—."

Ranger tugged me closer to him, and kissed the top of my head. The he took a bite out of the doughnut. "So what did you do next?"

"I told her it wasn't weird."

His lips turned up the barest of inches. "Good to know."

He opened the office door and ushered me in, taking another bite of the pastry I'd forced on him. Connie and Lula looked up and froze. Files landed on the floor. A nail polish brush rolled off the desk and dripped crimson polish all over the floor.

I held up the doughnut box. "I come bearing gifts."

They completely ignored me. Their glances went between Ranger and I, shock and awe mingled on their faces. Lula broke the silence.

"Holy moly. You got him eating doughnuts? _You're_ the shit."

"Any skips for me, Connie?" Ranger asked?

She blinked up at him, then turned her eyes to the files. "Uh…ye—um, yes. There's one right…uh…_here_." She handed it to him, still with an unbelieving look on her face.

Vinnie poked his head out of his office. "I hear you took my cousin out last night, and beat up Morelli."

"You believe everything you hear?"

"Just don't get yourself arrested. All my other agents are crap."

I frowned, and Ranger smiled. "The rumors say _why_ I beat up Morelli?"

Vinnie's head disappeared, the door closed, and the lock clicked in place. "Stephanie doesn't work for me anymore! She actually brought skips in!"

"Your ass!" Lula called. "I bring skips in too!"

Both Lula and Connie took doughnuts. "You really beat up Morelli?"

"My hand slipped."

They both gazed at me in admiration. Lula glanced behind us, out into the lot.

"Where's your wheels, girl?"

"They exploded."

"Oh, right. So…how'd you get here?"

She was prying, and everyone knew it.

Ranger glanced in my direction. "We're leaving, babe."

"Oh, so you drove her in? Well, that was nice of you, to drive out of your way for Steph like that."

Ranger gave me a death glare, and I jumped up, shaking my head at Lula.

I set half the doughnuts on napkins on Connie's desk, and tucked the box under my arm. "Sorry. Got to go."

I turned my head at the door, and Lula made a high five gesture, grinning at me. I waved goodbye, grinning as Ranger took my hand, guiding me to his car.

Halfway to Haywood, my cell rang. I stared at the LCD, contemplated throwing the phone out the window, and then, sighing, answered it.

"Hello?"

"Stephanie Plum!"

"Mom, I really don't have time for—."

"What's this I hear about you and Ranger?"

"Well we—."

"And Ranger hitting Joseph? Why would he do that?"

"If you heard some of the things Joe said about me you wouldn't be asking that question.

"Well, what about Ranger staying the night?"

"Mom. You do not want the answer to that question."

"And you yelling at poor Lucille Danelli's daughter?"

"She called Ranger Mexican. And I didn't yell."

"But—."

"Mom, you're giving me a headache."

"Young lady—."

"Look, Joe and I are done. Ranger took me out on a date. One date will very likely lead to many more dates. That's it. End of story."

She was quiet for a while. "Are you coming to dinner tonight?" She finally asked.

"I don't know."

"Come. Bring Ranger."

"Mom, I don't think—."

"He'll come. Your grandmother will behave, Valerie won't stare, and your father will speak about something other than the potatoes."

"I…"

"See you at six."

The line went dead, and I banged my head against the window.

Ranger caught my eyes through the rear view mirror.

"We have dinner with my family at six."

"Any way I can get out of it?"

"I'll take 'Houses in Siberia' for five hundred."

He sighed. "Your family's crazy."

"I swear to God Grandma Mazur won't hit on you."

"No way to stop the woman, Babe."

"Sorry."

He took his had from the shifter and grabbed mine, intertwining our fingers. "I'll live."

"You better."

AN: Okay, now, before you all flame me for making so many people having race on their minds, let me just point out that the burg is still stuck in that whole 60's, stay-at-home-mom, Leave It to Beaver way of life. Someone thought Ranger was a terrorist the last time he showed up in Chambersburg. If (well, when) Ranger and Steph ever do end up in a relationship, there are going to be complications. And there will be more to come. Just…don't abandon me because I'm showing the race thing. I personally think it's abhorrent, and I would SO do Ranger if I got the chance, but old-fashioned places are like that. I've got a great uncle who would probably disown me for dating someone who wasn't white. I can barely talk to him most of the time, because he's just that ignorant.

But now you know kind of the central plot. If that makes you squicky, I suggest moving on to something with more fluff. shrugs What can I say? I like to angst it up a little bit.

By the way, if anyone notices any "donut" instead of "doughnut" mistakes, tell me about it. I hate Dunkin' Donuts for screwing with my mind like this. It's funny, because here in Colorado, we have Krispy Kreme (because I swear to you, half of California has moved to Colorado) and when I went to the East Coast (Conn., Mass., Maine, etc…) all there was was Dunkin' Donuts. Then about two years later they put in _ONE_ KK on a huge freeway, and I guess for months it was packed constantly. I guess the good things just go east.

What's the word for this? Cream and sugar are NOT concessions, but I honestly can't think of the word. Someone help me out here!


End file.
